


your mouth under a thicket of kisses

by troubadore



Series: geraskier kink bingo fills [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Fixation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26669572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubadore/pseuds/troubadore
Summary: Geralt growls, low and possessive, and rolls their hips together as the fingers on Jaskier's chin move to push into his mouth. Jaskier sucks greedily at them, moaning around them as he laves his tongue against them, around them, one leg coming up to hook around Geralt's hip."This fucking mouth of yours," he murmurs, pumping his fingers in and out, and Jaskier closes his eyes to better savor the image it conjures up. "Going to be the death of me one of these days, sweetheart."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: geraskier kink bingo fills [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913302
Comments: 13
Kudos: 325
Collections: Geraskier Kink Bingo





	your mouth under a thicket of kisses

**Author's Note:**

> i may definitely have a little bit of a mouth kink ok don't at me
> 
> this fills the "oral fixation" space on [geraskier kink bingo](http://twitter.com/BingoKink) card E

_ the still waters of the air _ _  
_ _ under the bough of the echo.  _

_ the still waters of the water  _ _  
_ _ under a frond of stars.  _

_the still waters of your mouth_ _  
_ _under a thicket of kisses._

— federíco garcía lorca, _variations_  


.

The evening air is cool against his flushed skin when Jaskier stumbles out of the tavern. Geralt is right behind him, hands warm on his waist as he drags them both into the alleyway a handful of paces away. 

Laughter is knocked out of him when his witcher pushes him up against the side of the building, his hands settling on thick biceps. He tilts his head up when Geralt buries his face in his neck, mouth hot as he sucks marks into his skin. 

"Someone's eager," he teases, and shivers when Geralt presses as close to him as he can, letting him feel the hard line of his cock in the confines of his trousers. 

One of those warm hands tilts his chin until he's looking into gold eyes darkened with lust. Geralt isn't looking at his eyes, though—his gaze is just a tad lower, and Jaskier pulls his bottom lip between his teeth just to feel his witcher's cock twitch against his own. 

Geralt growls, low and possessive, and rolls their hips together as the fingers on Jaskier's chin move to push into his mouth. Jaskier sucks greedily at them, moaning around them as he laves his tongue against them, around them, one leg coming up to hook around Geralt's hip. 

"This fucking mouth of yours," he murmurs, pumping his fingers in and out, and Jaskier closes his eyes to better savor the image it conjures up. "Going to be the death of me one of these days, sweetheart." 

Another shiver rolls up his spine and Jaskier moans again. He curls his tongue around those fingers, pushes it between them, getting them as wet as he can with just his spit. Geralt continues the pumping motion, a tease of the actual fucking he wants, dragging the pads of them over his tongue and the inside of his cheeks and over his teeth. 

He pulls back eventually, and Jaskier blinks his eyes open, licking his lips and breaking the strand of spit that was connected between his lips and Geralt's fingers. Geralt's gaze darkens even further and he pushes Jaskier up against the wall harder as he leans in and crushes their mouths together in a hard, wet kiss, licking immediately into his mouth and drawing out another moan. 

"On your knees," Geralt instructs as he pulls back again, and Jaskier obeys on instinct, body sliding down the wall to settle on the ground. He looks up from under his lashes, knowing what kind of sight he must make: cheeks flushed and eyes bright, chin dripping in spit and mouth red. 

He flutters his eyelashes up at his witcher. "Are you going to fuck my mouth?" he asks, licking his lips teasingly, enticingly. 

Hands slide into his hair and Jaskier goes pliant, humming when Geralt pushes his face against the bulge in his trousers. He mouths against the cock trapped within, chest filling with pleasure at the low moan his witcher bites out. He licks up the rough fabric, fitting his mouth over the head where it's trying to push out from its cage, breathing hot against it. 

"I should fuck your ass," Geralt says, low and dangerous. Jaskier shivers at the tone, mouth watering even more at the words. He rolls his hips up, pressing his cock against Jaskier's face. "Teases like you shouldn't get what they want." 

His grip in Jaskier's hair changes, tightening to almost too painful as he pulls him back to look up at him. His gold eyes are so very dark with want, hair falling from its tie around his face. Jaskier's hands settle around his thick thighs absently and his own cock throbs between his thighs. 

Geralt trails the thumb of his other hand over Jaskier's cheek tenderly, down to his chin, and then pushes his fingers back between his lips. "You're lucky I want your mouth on my cock so bad." 

A thrill of anticipation goes through him. Jaskier hums around those fingers, sucking and working his tongue on them like he's going to work it on his witcher's cock. A taste of what's to come—though hopefully not the  _ only  _ thing to come tonight. 

Those fingers pull away too soon, and Jaskier watches Geralt work the laces of his trousers open and free his cock with lidded eyes. It's thick with blood, heavy and hard in his palm as he strokes it. He licks his lips again at the shine of slick on it, the way it beads at the tip. Geralt thumbs over the head, smearing it, and a soft moan falls from his lips. Gods, he wants to taste it  _ so bad,  _ wants the weight of it on his tongue. 

"Come here, sweetheart," Geralt murmurs, voice rough and wrecked already. He guides Jaskier's head forward until the tip of his cock rests against his bottom lip. "Open that pretty mouth for me." 

Jaskier parts his lips immediately, unable to resist. His eyes fall closed against his will as that gloriously thick, hot cock is pressed into his mouth, the saltiness of precome flooding his tastebuds. Geralt presses forward slowly, inch by inch, and he lets his jaw stretch wider as he goes deeper. His witcher is  _ thick,  _ his girth filling his mouth fully, and he's just long enough for the tip to settle in his throat by the time he bottoms out. 

"Gods, sweetheart," Geralt pants above him, thumb caressing over his cheek, around his lips. Jaskier manages to open his eyes and look up at him. "Look at you. You take me so well. That pretty mouth of yours was made for witcher cock." 

He pulls out and pushes back in in a smooth thrust, then again, and again, cock dragging over Jaskier's tongue. " _ Fuck, _ " he breathes, and he leans over Jaskier, propping his other arm on the wall, widening his stance. He grips Jaskier's hair and keeps him still as he begins fucking his hips in earnest. 

He hums around the cock in his mouth, tonguing the vein along it, teeth grazing gently over the head as Geralt pulls out to the tip. He suckles at it when he pauses, then lets his throat open up as it's pushed back in. It makes him moan, and he absently rolls his own hips, seeking relief for his own aching cock as he lets his witcher use him as he pleases. He drops a hand from Geralt's thigh to press against himself, rubbing against his wrist until Geralt stops and pulls him all the way off his cock, drawing a protest from him. 

"What—" 

"Keep your hands off yourself," Geralt growls, tugging his head back so he's forced to look into dark gold eyes. It sends heat rolling through him and he pants heavily, feeling the spit and precome on his face as the faint breeze blows through the alleyway and cools it. "Godsdamned tease that you are, I don't know that you deserve to come tonight." 

More protests line his tongue but his witcher shoves his cock back in his mouth before he can voice them, pushing all the way to his throat in a sharp thrust. It makes him choke briefly, tears coming to his eyes as he braces his hands back on those thick thighs.

"Think I'm just going to fuck your face," Geralt says, almost conversationally. He pulls all the way out and thrusts back in just as quick, hips snapping forward. Jaskier relaxes his throat and takes it, swallowing around him and drawing a groan out of his witcher. "You can sit there and take it, sweetheart. Since you obviously wanted me to wreck you so bad, the way you were acting tonight, singing those songs to the people in there." 

Jaskier whines as his cock drags in sharp thrusts over his tongue, the tip hitting the back of his throat with every time he pushes his hips forward. The quick pace pushes choking noises out of him along with more spit, and he licks and sucks around Geralt's cock as best he can. He breathes in through his nose and it smells like sweat and musk along with the dirt and shit of the alleyway. It makes him hot under his collar, sweat beading at his temples, his gut coiling tight as he humps the air uselessly, knees spread wide so that his cock brushes against the inside of his trousers, brief flashes of relief but not enough to bring himself off. 

" _ Fuck _ , look at you," Geralt breathes out, thrusting faster, heavy intense gaze trained on him, and Jaskier can  _ feel  _ the heat in those gold eyes. It makes the pleasure in his gut coil tighter knowing he's the reason for it, the focus of it. "Spread out on your knees like a whore, choking on my cock. And you  _ love  _ it." 

He does,  _ gods  _ does he ever. Jaskier barely manages a nod around the cock in his mouth, hands gripping his witcher's thighs tight, encouraging him to fuck his throat harder. He wants to feel it, he wants Geralt to go so deep all he can taste is his witcher's come, wants his voice to be so rough from being fucked he can't sing for the next week. 

And his witcher must sense his building desire, his desperation to be wrecked and ruined, because he absolutely delivers—those big hands of his thread into Jaskier's hair and hold his head still as he fucks his hips in hard, deep thrusts, shoving in until Jaskier's nose is buried in the hair at the base of his cock and pulling back out before he has time to do more than choke on it. 

The quiet air around them is filled with his breathy whines and the wet sounds of Geralt's cock sliding in and out of his mouth, as well as the soft grunts of pleasure his witcher lets out. He closes his eyes, lets himself just be used, heat coiling in his gut tighter and tighter as he listens and tastes and  _ feels.  _

Rough, calloused fingers push in alongside the cock in his mouth, caressing over his spit- and precome-slicked lips and Jaskier whimpers at the way his jaw aches at the stretch of holding it open. His throat is going to be  _ so  _ sore in the morning. 

Geralt's rhythm begins to stutter and Jaskier knows he's close. He runs his tongue along the underside, sucking hard and moaning around him. His witcher jerks, hips giving one last thrust as he pulls Jaskier's head forward to take his entire length as he comes. 

" _ Fuck _ ," he groans, and he sounds winded. His hand pets through Jaskier's hair in soothing motions, and Jaskier basks in the soft gestures as he swallows what he's given, feeling some of it drip down his chin along with his spit. "That's it. Take it all, sweetheart. Love that pretty mouth full of my cock and my come, don't you?" 

He wants  _ so bad  _ to touch himself, to put his hand between his legs and rut against it and chase his own pleasure while he holds his witcher's softening cock in his mouth, enjoying the weight and the heat of it while he gets himself off. 

They stay on Geralt's thighs, fingers curled so tightly in the fabric of his trousers he's sure his knuckles are white. His hips thrust against the air uselessly, and he can feel the damp patch at the crotch of his own trousers where the precome beading from his own cock is smeared inside it. 

He whines, looking up at Geralt through his lashes. Geralt gazes back, eyes lidded with satisfaction, expression easy and sated. His thumb traces gently around Jaskier's lips still wrapped around his cock, smearing more of his spit and come around, before he gently pulls out. 

"So good for me, sweetheart," he murmurs softly, and Jaskier sags, leaning his head against Geralt's thigh. "Did you come?" 

With a shudder, he shakes his head, and Geralt again murmurs, "Good boy." 

His cock throbs, still achingly hard, but he keeps his hands away like he was told, the pleasure coiled in his gut slowly ebbing away as his hair is petted. He contents himself with nuzzling against the soft cock by his face, mouthing absently along the length, up to the sac, and then leaving soft kisses on his witcher's hips. 

A tender touch to his chin tips his head up again and the gentle but insistent lingering pressure of it has him slowly getting back to his feet. His knees ache and he staggers only slightly, steadied by the sure, firm hands of his witcher on his waist. He squeezes the arms holding him up in thanks and grins. 

"Am I forgiven, then?" he asks, licking his lips and enjoying the thrill that goes through him when gold eyes follow it. 

He laughs when Geralt's mouth takes his own and lets himself fall into the deep, languid kiss. It lasts long moments, growing increasingly wet and slick until they eventually pull away, heads together and sharing warm breaths. 

"Gods," Geralt groans, stealing one more quick kiss, "I love your fucking mouth, sweetheart." 

Jaskier grins against him, biting his lip. "And the rest of me?" 

"Yeah," Geralt breathes, soft and reverent. He brushes their mouths together. "I love the rest of you, too." 

It sends a pleasant warmth through his veins that settles in his chest, and he tilts his head to kiss his witcher again. 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu [twitter](http://twitter.com/troubadorer) / [tumblr](http://geraltofriviasleftbuttcheek.tumblr.com)


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